I'm sitting in a dark hotel room on the eve of my first - and possibly only - total solar eclipse, with my partner and step-son, and I am positively awash with emotions.
I have been waiting for this day for 30 years, since my first partial eclipse in May of 1994. That was an underwhelming experience for many reasons, but not the least of them was that I had nothing and no one to view the eclipse with.
Three decades, two astronomy degrees, 5 years operating a planetarium, and 5 years as a guide at the local observatory later, and I'm fully prepared. Today, I have more viewing glasses than i have fingers, two cameras with filters, I have my family, and I am smack dab in the middle of the path of totality.
And the forecast calls for clear skies.
I can't believe it. I can't believe that this is actually happening for me. That everything looks like it's going to work out.
The only disappointment is that I discovered that Potato World exists - it's the New Brunswick potato museum (and it's next door to my hotel) - but it's closed!
My wife only went because I was hellbent on seeing the eclipse at totality (we saw the last October's eclipse and 2017 both from around 90% coverage). Afterwards she said "the Grand canyon ain't got shit on a solar eclipse" and we are both still in shock for how amazing of an experience it was.
The wonky colors as day slowly turned to night, the sudden whooshing shadow as totality began, the burning ring of fire in the sky then the light whooshing back as totality ended, the cacophony of yelps by folks too slow to put their eclipse glasses back on. It was a hell of an experience
I'm in a similar boat. Flew across the country because after "missing" 2017s I immediately felt regret. Now I'm debating Europe in 2026.
But the colors. Can someone who understands this stuff please explain to me why a simple reduction in light in the lead up to (and following) totality makes all the colors seem "wrong"?
Ot depends on which colours you mean.